


Freedom and Justice

by Felixbug



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:42:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felixbug/pseuds/Felixbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“You are an intriguing mortal.” </i>
  <br/>
  <i>Isabela looked to be on the verge of laughter, and Justice thought he might have said the wrong thing – but she didn’t laugh. She leaned in close instead, her body warm and soft against his, dark eyes looking up through darker lashes as she wrapped one arm loosely around the back of his neck. </i>
  <br/>
  <i>“Mortal,” she purred. “I like that. Say it again.”</i>
</p><p>After the Chantry explosion, Anders and Justice deal with the uncertainty of their future. Isabela offers comfort - and a chance at something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom and Justice

**Author's Note:**

> The smut is all Justice/Isabela, Anders' interest just makes things easier ;) Other pairings mentioned are Hawke/Merrill and one-sided Anders/Hawke, but they're so briefly touched on that I didn't want to clog up those tags. There's one extremely vague and brief mention of possible suicidal thoughts, blink and you'll miss it but I didn't want it to catch anyone unawares.
> 
> Not part of any of my other fics' continuities, but I may end up writing more of this pairing in the future if inspiration strikes :) Written for day one of #justicepositive

No one had spoken to Anders since they left Kirkwall.

Justice supposed it was to be expected. Fire and blood in the streets, fighting for their lives against Templars – none of them had planned for this. It was not their cause. What he and his host had chosen to do had been drastic – just, he was certain of it, but not simple. Not without cost. The victims had been denied justice, and that made him uneasy – but it had been Hawke’s choice, and the cause of the victims was not his own. He would see the mages freed, and that would be enough.

Anders was less at ease with their decision – staring out across the water at the fading silhouette of Kirkwall against the sky. He felt no more doubt than Justice did, but far more pain. Justice coiled through his thoughts, identifying the centres of hurt and trying to ease Anders’ burden. Compassion was his weakness and his strength – while they both knew they had saved more lives than they had taken, Anders could not weigh the decision so easily. Innocent death had been unavoidable, but Anders wished he had not been forced to be the cause.

“Let’s talk.”

Anders turned, and Justice saw through his eyes as Isabela approached. Her white dress was smoke and blood stained, and she carried a tinted glass bottle in one hand. She joined him at the rail, looking out over the water.

“I’m not sure I’m ready.”

“Tough luck, sweet thing. My ship, my rules.” She offered him the bottle, and Anders shook his head. “How’re you holding up?”

“Hawke hates me.” Justice nudged at Anders’ mind – there were deeper concerns, things that would eat away at him for months or years to come. But this was what he had latched onto – this was what hurt, even now, after all this time.

“He doesn’t hate you. Honestly, you were so wrapped up in things on that shame box of yours, you didn’t see his _face_ when Sebastian started with his nonsense.” She tittered, and took a long swallow from the bottle. Anders could smell it – some form of strong spirit – and he was tempted, even as Justice mentally recoiled at the scent. “Wasn’t even a question. Hawke loves you, just not the way you’d like – and he was scared shitless for Kitten back there. Not a fight he ever wanted her caught up in.”

“Merrill can take care of herself.”

“Sure can.” Isabela untied her bandana one handed, and ran her fingers through her hair with a grimace. “Urgh – Templar blood gets _everywhere._ Let Hawke be protective and growly for a little while. It’s a good look on him, I know we can’t touch but we can always enjoy the view.”

“I’m not like you,” Anders snapped. Isabela raised an eyebrow – Justice had mixed feelings about her, but he had always admired her lack of concern for the unjust insults she so often endured. This was a woman who had played a part in something that could have become a war, yet her friends seemed more concerned with her sexual behaviour. He did not understand the mortal preoccupation with sexual morality, nor did he wish to. “I didn’t mean – that,” Anders sighed, feeling Justice’s disappointment. “I – I’ve never been able to think of Hawke just that way.”

“Oh, sweetheart. You’ve really got it bad.” She sighed, and offered the bottle again. “Drink – it’ll make you feel better.”

“Justice doesn’t…” Anders paused, sensing Justice’s mental nudge. He’d given enough – more than enough. He’d been ready to die for their cause, and he was suffering now. There were some things Justice was rigid on, some beliefs he could not forget. Anders drinking was a minor personal dislike – he could tolerate it tonight. “Wow.”

“Hmm?” Isabela asked as Anders took the bottle.

“Turns out blowing up a Chantry is what it takes to drive Justice to drink.” He took a long swallow – the taste was not as vile as Justice had imagined, but he was glad it was muffled through Anders’ mind. “Or put him in the mood to celebrate, I can’t tell.”

“Maybe he’s lightening up.” Isabela nudged him in the ribs. “You both need to. I’ve been keeping an eye on you to make sure you didn’t throw yourself overboard.” She said it like a joke, but Anders didn’t laugh and her eyes didn’t quite either. She was worried. Justice pressed up close against the surface of Anders’ mind, wishing he could thank her. He was doing his best to protect his host, a mortal on his side was something he could appreciate.

“You don’t need to worry,” Anders said. “Really – everyone had a bad night, I’m sure the others need you more than me.”

“All right, all right – I can take a hint.” She took the bottle back from him, leaning in close enough that Anders felt the warm brush of her breasts against his arm. His body responded with a flush of heat, and his breath caught. Justice had noticed it took very little, these last few years. Anders was finding isolation from his own kind difficult – Justice supposed it made sense.

As she turned away, Justice felt a horrible cold heaviness tangle inside their chest. He was unsure if it was his or Anders’ – but he knew the feeling. They were lonely. Scared, too – after years of being able to rely on Hawke and his friends for company and at least some level of understanding, soon they would be alone again. With each other, and the gulf of silence between them. Since their decision to attack the Chantry directly, Anders had been more open to direct communication – they had experimented with communicating through shared thoughts, and with shifting control more fluidly, but it had not been easy. Even now, they could not talk as they had when Justice walked in Kristoff’s skin. They were so close, and so separate. Justice knew he would not be a substitute for mortal friendship, when the time came for them to leave.

“Wait!”

He had expected it to be Anders who called to her – had not even felt the shift in control until he heard the distinctive gravel of his own voice, and saw the play of blue light over Isabela’s surprised face.

“Did you – _know_ that you’re glowing?” She looked a little nervous – mortals always did. He supposed his form was disturbing to look at – Anders’ skin appeared cracked and torn, with Justice’s raw power smouldering within. His eyes were blue fire, and his voice rumbled and echoed with every word. He was not one of them, they could only see him as a monster.

“I am Justice,” he said. “We have not spoken, but I know you through Anders.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Isabela sauntered back to the rail. “So you’re the stick up Anders’ ass.”

“That is not –“

“Relax.” She chuckled and took another swallow from the bottle. “Honestly, I tease, but he was always angry. Funnier, but angry. You two make sense.”

“Thank you.” Isabela turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Most mortals see our relationship as unnatural – wrong. Your understanding is welcome.”

“I like to think I’m open minded about relationships, as a general rule.” Isabela grinned. “Not much point in doing things the way everyone expects. I like Anders – I like teasing him though, he gets all riled up far too easily. Or maybe that’s you?” She shrugged. “Truth is, the Chantry?” She mimed an explosion with one fist. “Didn’t surprise me. You, me, Anders, all the same. Freedom at any cost.”

“I am _nothing_ like you,” Justice said furiously, his glow blazing brighter. “This was a selfless act, for mages everywhere…”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re _wearing_ a mage.” She offered him the bottle – the smirk on her lips told him she expected him to refuse, and Justice wasn’t sure why he took it. Blame the weakness of a mortal body, blame the droplet of sweat descending between her breasts – that must be Anders’ thought, not his – blame his anger. He snatched it away and took a swallow, shuddering at the burn that hit the back of his throat.

“We expected to die. In the fight to come, we still may. Mages will be free – it is unlikely Anders will be one of them.”

“You’re quite the martyr.” She took the bottle back, but to Justice’s surprise she corked it and set it down by her feet. “That never appealed to me. Freedom though, that did. Enough that I’d see the whole world burn down to get it – or I thought I would.” She frowned. “Any regrets hitting you yet?”

“None.” Justice felt for Anders’ mind, and corrected himself. “Some – I believe they are Anders’. He would not change what we did – but he… It is difficult to explain. He concerns himself with the details, he cannot take the whole picture as his victory.”

“Yeah – funny thing about the little picture. Seems a whole lot bigger when it’s bleeding on your shoes.” She sighed. “I was half way out of the city when I ran across a kid. Dead by the time I got there, didn’t stop me trying to stop the bleeding like the soft-hearted idiot I am. Qunari cut him down just because he was in their way, probably. Ruthless bastards. If you asked me whose life I cared about more, his or mine, I’d pick mine. Before, after, during – ask me to choose a hundred times over and I’d still pick me. I’m selfish, I can live with that.” She shrugged. “It got in my head though. Him, Hawke, everything – I still don’t quite know why I came back. Don’t regret that though, definitely. Wouldn’t have wanted to miss the fireworks.” She gestured to the dwindling Kirkwall skyline.

“I would have given you to the Arishok.” Justice wasn’t sure why he said it, but Isabela seemed to trust him, seemed to think they were friends, and he did not feel it should go unsaid. “He asked only for justice, and the alternative was for Hawke to risk his life.”

“The honesty’s appreciated.” She smirked and shook her head. “No one admits it, but most probably would have. The real question is – what would you have done with Anders, in Hawke’s place?”

“I – do not know.” Justice gripped the rail hard, feeling Anders’ discomfort with the question, and his own indecision. “Hawke is a fair man – but he is more merciful than I know how to be. I might have felt a duty to the innocent victims of our actions, in his place. But I believe our actions were necessary – they were _just._ We do not deserve to be punished for them.”

“It’s like I’ve always said – this isn’t a world of ideals. You don’t really belong.”

“I do not.”

They were silent for a few moments – Isabela was looking at him with a curious expression that Justice did not recognise, and she did not meet his eye. Her gaze seemed instead to be drawn to his lips, and one hand was toying with the lacing on the neckline of her dress. He had begun to lean forward before he realised it was Anders’ impulse, not his, and he drew back sharply.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Bit of a funny night, I wasn’t thinking – I don’t suppose spirits really _do_ this. Can’t blame a girl for being curious.”

“You are attempting to seduce me?”

“If I was attempting to _seduce you_ , you’d already be wriggling out of that complicated coat of yours.” She laughed, and bent to scoop up her bottle from the deck. “I don’t know – thought you could use some _company._ The distracting kind. Anders and I had some fun, back in the day. You’re sweet, in an incredibly awkward, far too honest sort of way. I like misfits who make bad decisions.” She gestured vaguely at the ship as a whole. “See, my choice in friends.”

“I was not refusing.”

Isabela paused mid-step, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“You weren’t?”

He wasn’t intoxicated – had not drunk enough, even if his presence in Anders’ body would allow such a thing – nor was Anders driving him. The physical urges of his body had drawn Justice’s curiosity more than once – the intense heat and pleasure in his mind on the nights he thrust into his fist and groaned Hawke’s name into his pillow had confused Justice at first. It seemed like a distraction, a waste of time and energy – but he had come to understand, this was something mortals – or at least _this_ mortal – needed. But this went beyond curiosity – Isabela had offered him connection, understanding. He wanted more.

“I am – curious,” he said slowly. “This is not something I ever expected – I do not know if I...”

“Oh, bless you.” She took his hand, and reached out to gently smooth his wind-swept hair back from his face. “Maker, you’re stuttering – I didn’t expect _that._ ”

“I am not your kind.” He tilted his head, studying her face. “This does not bother you?”

“Humans, elves, dwarves – one _very_ exciting night with a tal-vashoth.” She grinned. “I don’t have a type, and I really hate to be tied down.”

“You are an intriguing mortal.”

Isabela looked to be on the verge of laughter, and Justice thought he might have said the wrong thing – but she didn’t laugh. She leaned in close instead, her body warm and soft against his, dark eyes looking up through darker lashes as she wrapped one arm loosely around the back of his neck.

“Mortal,” she purred. “I like that. Say it again.”

“Mortal,” Justice said obediently, and she dragged his lips down against hers.

Anders had memories – hundreds of them – and Justice thought he had known what to expect. He was wrong – he was so wrong. Isabela tasted of the drink they’d shared, but it didn’t burn on her lips – it tingled, sweet and strong. She was warm – warmer than he could have imagined, and her mouth fitted so well against his, lips moving softly as she tilted her face to bring them closer. Her tongue swept over his bottom lip, and Justice forgot his inexperience, forgot his caution – he slid his hands around her back and held on tightly as he moved his mouth against hers. She sucked his lower lip until he growled, and her tongue met his with a gasping moan as he pulled her against him, ample breasts flattening against his chest. Anders’ memories and the instincts of his body told him what to do – he slid one hand up into her hair to hold her close, never wanting this to end. Eventually it did – Isabela’s hand braced on his chest and he released her reluctantly, groaning softly at the loss.

“I’ve had a few threesomes in my time,” she said – she was breathless, and Justice repressed a flutter of pride. He was indulging himself enough. “Always fun. But ah – this is a new one to me. Is Anders watching?”

“He is aware.”

“And is he okay with this?”

Justice felt for Anders’ mind – it was difficult to separate his own feelings from Anders’, they were tangled and overlapping, but perhaps that was an answer on its own. He relaxed his hold on Anders’ body, to give him the chance to come forward, and felt an unmistakable nudge of encouragement in his mind. It came with a scattering of images – memories, mostly, of Isabela’s nude body riding Anders hard, his long, elegant fingers digging into the softness of her hips. But there were fantasies too – he hadn’t forgotten her, and hadn’t ever quite stopped wanting her. He was more than willing – he was eager.

“He is,” Justice confirmed.

She led him shamelessly to her cabin, past the wide-eyed stares of her crew. He was glad for Anders’ sake that Hawke and the rest of his companions were in their own cabins, that Anders did not have to endure more hostile stares from them. Tomorrow they would begin living with what they had sacrificed – tonight, Isabela’s hand was warm in his and her smile was inviting as she looked over her shoulder, gripped a handful of his feathered coat, and pulled him through the door. She kicked it shut behind him, and Justice had barely caught his breath before she had pulled him down onto the bed and wrapped her thick, strong thighs around his waist. She kissed him urgently, and Justice braced himself over her. He tried to find the rhythm of her movements, kissing back just as eagerly but with less skill. She didn’t seem to mind, one hand on his face gently encouraging him to turn to fit more easily against her as she nibbled on his lip and then pulled him close to kiss her hard again.

Justice had a moment of panic when he felt her move against his hardness – it felt incredible, even through the layers of his clothing, and it was almost unbearably intense after so many years hiding in the depths of Anders’ mind. The sudden pressure and friction made him groan against her lips, one hand sliding down her body to grip her ass as she rocked against him again. Isabela laughed – he had a moment of discomfort when he was sure it was at him – then she pulled back with her nimble fingers loosening his hair and smiled up at him. Her laughter was unrestrained and joyful, and she ran her thumb over his glowing cheek affectionately.

“You’re so sensitive,” she purred, and she rolled her hips again, eyes fixed on his as Justice gasped. “I’m going to have some fun with you. I bet you’re _loud,_ aren’t you?” She slid her hands down his body to grip his ass, and kneaded firmly as she bucked against him. Justice shuddered, his fingers tightening on her skin as he thrust helplessly against her. He moaned sharply – the sound surprised him, he didn’t know he could sound so vulnerable, so _desperate._

“Oh, I like that,” she murmured. Her hands began to loosen the buckles on his coat, and Justice hovered awkwardly above her as she did. He wasn’t sure what to do – Anders’ mind was flooding his with suggestions, but the choices were overwhelming. “You’ve got all the good stuff up there,” she raised one hand to tap a finger on his temple, giggled, then returned to his coat with her brow wrinkled in concentration. “And all the wide-eyed wonder of a first-timer. I get to blow your mind, _and_ have fun doing it.”

“I am not certain it works that way,” Justice admitted. He pulled back from her reluctantly to shed his coat, and pulled off his robe over his head. Isabela cooed appreciatively, running her fingertips over his chest. Justice could feel Anders’ self-consciousness – his body had changed since Isabela had last seen him like this – but she didn’t seem to mind. She licked her thumb and reached out again to tease his nipple with the damp pad, and Justice groaned and arched into her touch.

“You seem to have _some_ idea what you’re doing, at least,” she purred as his hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress up above her hips. Her underwear barely counted as clothing – a scrap of silk between her legs. Justice’s hands tightened on her thighs as he saw the hint of wetness forming on the dark fabric – she wasn’t just curious, she _wanted_ him.

“I have Anders’ memories,” he said, tracing circles on her thighs with his fingertips. Isabela squirmed, and her movement twisted the skimpy garment, revealing the short, dark curls on her mound. He growled low in his chest, and slid his hand higher up her inner thigh. “I know everything he does but I – when I imitate things he does effortlessly, the result is not the same. With my magic, my speech, the expressions on my face. I am not him.”

“That bothers you?” He looked up, surprised at the sympathy in her voice. She was loosening her corset, and the movement had tugged her dress crooked. One dark, stiff nipple had slipped loose from her neckline, and Justice licked his lips with a faint rumble at the sight.

“I do not wish to be mortal,” he said. He gripped her thigh hard, enjoying her eager gasp as his fingertips dug into soft skin. “But I am not what I was, either. It is – difficult. Complicated. I am afraid I will disappoint you.”

“Sweet thing, you _care_ if you disappoint me. That puts you – hmm, at least ten steps above most mortal men.” She tugged her loosened corset off over her head, leaving her dress twisted and covering very little. Her breasts spilled loose, unsupported by the tight fabric they moved freely, flattening and hanging towards the side of her chest. Justice growled approvingly, and Isabela reached down and took his hand.

“You’ve been staring since I started talking to you,” she purred. “You’re allowed to touch.”

Justice leaned forward over her, and cupped her right breast in his hand. It was impossibly soft – her warm, dark skin seeming to pool against his fingers as he squeezed gently. Her nipple was hard against his palm, and the soft flesh of her breast surprisingly light as he moved his hand. Constrained by her dress, they had looked so firm – this was better than he could have imagined, the fascinating silky texture of her skin shifting under every move of his fingers.

“You look like you just saw the face of the Maker,” she chuckled. The movement of her chest made her breasts shift slightly again, and Justice slid his hand up her body to take hold of the other. “You’re being very sweet – don’t be scared to give them a squeeze – they don’t come off.”

“I am aware.” He realised – too late – that it had been a joke. Still, Isabela didn’t seem inclined to retract her invitation – he squeezed gently, giving a pleased hum as he felt the soft flesh move under his hand. Isabela’s nipples tightened, and he was made bolder by her soft moans. He shifted his hand so that he could mimic her movement from earlier – running the pad of his thumb over the firm peak.

“Ooh – _yes.”_ She arched her back, and Justice felt his cock ache at the sight. He let one hand drop to the bed and leaned forward to bring their lips together again, thumb circling Isabela’s nipple as he sucked on her full lower lip. He could feel her soft moans muffled against his mouth as he kissed her deeply, and as he shifted over her, Isabela wriggled into position beneath him and began to grind against his thigh.

“You’re getting good with your mouth,” she whispered against his lips. She canted her hips higher, and her own thigh brushed Justice’s hard length. “D’you want to show me – mm – what else you can do?”

“With my mouth?”

“Yes – that wasn’t obvious?” She quirked an eyebrow with a chuckle, then raised her hand to his cheek. “Oh no – I wasn’t laughing at you. I’ll stop, I promise.”

“You have not distressed me,” he said. He shifted down her body, reluctant to move away from the soft, inviting curves of her breasts, but eager to explore lower. “I simply do not understand most mortal humour.”

Justice settled once more between her legs, one hand hovering on her inner thigh. He looked up at her – her face was flushed dark, and she had her lower lip pulled between her teeth.

“May I touch?”

“Please,” she gasped, and her thigh tensed as she bucked eagerly under his hand.

Justice slid his hand slowly over her skin – she was softer than Anders everywhere, and he was fascinated by the way her thighs dimpled slightly under pressure. He hooked his fingers in the edge of her underwear, and encouraged by her soft moan, pulled it aside.

She was already so wet – her lips slick and the trimmed curls surrounding them visibly damp. Justice growled, and ran the pad of his finger over the soft, dark pink folds. Isabela’s loud moan drew his attention – her head was thrown back, her fingers toying with her nipples as her chest heaved. She parted her thighs wider, bucking against his hand. Justice paused for a moment, watching her reactions, then slid one finger into her.

The feeling took his breath away – she was so hot, so wet, and she tightened around him as his finger brushed against a spot that made her shiver. His cock throbbed, trapped tight against his body, and for a moment he shook with the effort of resisting rushing this. He wanted to be inside her, wanted to feel that slick tightness around his cock – but he knew, or at least Anders knew, that he owed her more than that.

Justice pressed his lips against Isabela’s inner thigh. Another soft kiss a little higher, and he was rewarded with an encouraging moan. He trailed his lips closer to her cunt, gently rocking his finger inside her as he brought his mouth closer. Isabela keened as he kissed the thin skin where her thigh joined her hip, and her voice broke into a sharp cry as he swept his tongue up over her folds.

“Don’t _tease,_ ” she gasped. “That can’t be _just_.”

“I apologise,” he said, and Isabela laughed and caught a fistful of his hair as he pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry – another joke. You’re doing–“ she broke off with a moan as he began to move his finger inside her again – slow and steady, pressing up gently against her inner wall. “Oh Maker – you’re doing _fine.”_

 _“_ Tell me what you like?” He crooked his finger again and she tightened briefly around it, her hand clenching in his hair and a shaky cry escaping her.

“That,” she moaned. “A – a little more. Give me two fingers.”

He obeyed – not sure what it meant that his cock throbbed at her words, but willing to embrace it. He rubbed up against the sensitive spot again, kneading the soft, slick flesh until she whimpered.

“Oh – oh _yes_ that’s it.” She began to move, grinding down against his hand with every thrust of his fingers. “And your – mm – tongue. On my clit – right here.” She slipped one hand down and spread her lips, drawing back her hood.

Justice leaned in close again, feeling Isabela’s fingers tighten eagerly in his hair as his breath ghosted over her. She was spread beneath him, her most sensitive places exposed. He gasped at the intimacy of it, and at the scent of her. His shaky exhale made her whimper again, and Justice wasted no more time. He let his tongue dart out and trace over her swollen clit.

“Yes – more,” she panted, and he eagerly obeyed. He flattened himself on the bed, pumping his fingers into her as he licked and – with her encouragement – gently sucked on the sensitive nub until she bucked and cried out.

Her voice dropped to a purr as she instructed him, her confidence growing as Justice obeyed her eagerly. A flick of tongue at her command, shifting pressure and increasing speed as she writhed beneath him. He delved his tongue into her alongside his fingers, moaning at the sweet taste of her wetness – then swept back up to her clit to circle and knead with the tip of his tongue.

Isabela’s second hand slid into his hair, holding him in place. He didn’t object – the firm pressure made his cock twitch, and he moaned against her as he rutted against the sheets. His hands were shaking – one braced firmly on her thigh, the other still thrusting fingers into her dripping core. Isabela’s words failed her – she moaned with every rock of her hips, her breath ragged and her thighs trembling as they seized around his shoulders.

“ _There_ ,” she gasped out. “That’s – there, Justice – _yes._ ”

Her back arched as she cried out, pressing up urgently against Justice’s fingers and tongue. He didn’t stop – didn’t even slow – working her through every shudder of her climax as wetness coated his hand and she rode his tongue with sharp, broken whimpers.

He hadn’t known – hadn’t expected – couldn’t have believed that anything could be this good. The sharp, sweet taste of her flooding his senses, the urgent ache in his cock, the way her voice trembled as she came down from her peak and told him he’d done well. He wanted to please her again – hear those sounds fall from her lips. There were memories not so different from this, but memories were mere ghosts in his shared mind. This was real – and he had caused this. She pulsed around his fingers, and her wetness glistened on his hand. He let his tongue dart out to flicker over her clit again and she moaned shakily, but pulled him back.

“Your turn,” she said with a smile. She encouraged him onto his back and straddled him, toying with the lacing of his trousers. “I think you’ve earned it.” He allowed himself a moment of pride at the shake in her voice, and watched her eagerly as her deft fingers loosened his trousers and tugged them down around his thighs – underclothes and all.

“Ooh.” She grinned, glancing up to meet his gaze as his cock slid free. “It _glows._ ”

“You expected that it would not?”

“I didn’t think.” She shrugged, and slid back to let him kick off his boots as she tugged his remaining clothing off. She stood at the foot of the bed and shimmied out of her dress, standing naked in the lamplight. She was truly stunning – firm muscle softened by generous curves, flawless dark skin and the gleaming fall of her hair around her face and shoulders. He had never been intimidated by a mortal – until tonight, would not have thought it possible. Isabela made him want to sink to his knees at her feet.

“You _are_ full of surprises.” She crawled up the bed over him, and dropped her hips to let his cock rub against her slick folds. “I should have guessed, really. Anders was always submissive – lots of fun, that’s how he ended up with his piercings.” She pinched Justice’s nipple – not hard, but the suggestion of pain her sharp nails could inflict left him panting. “Did you make him take them out?”

“They served no purpose – the gold had value.”

“True.” She slid over his cock again, and he grunted and arched up against the tantalising heat. “But if you’d let him keep them, I could have tugged them with my teeth until you screamed.”

“Oh…” Justice groaned as Isabela rocked her hips once more. “I did not – exactly plan for this.”

“Are you ready,” she breathed, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Her breasts swung against his chest, and he could feel her lined up against the head of his cock. It took all of his self-control not to thrust up into the tight, slick grip of her body, but he wanted her to take control – wanted her to ride him. He could feel Anders in the back of his mind, too deep to really participate, but enjoying every moment. Isabela’s teeth grazed his earlobe, and he growled and gripped her thighs.

“Yes,” he said. “I want this – you – please.”

She braced her hands on his chest, her weight pressing forward on him, holding him down. It was an illusion, he could be out from under her with ease, but Justice let himself be swept up in this mortal deception just this once. She circled her hips, teasing him for a last few agonising moments – then she pushed back, and sank down fully on his length.

“Maker,” she gasped. He was sheathed fully in her, her slick lips stretched tight around the base of his shaft. Justice slid his hands up to her hips and sunk his fingers into her skin with a growl. He’d never known anything could feel like this – all the years he’d spent in a mortal body and he’d never known they were capable of such intense sensation. He felt pinned by it, heat racing across his skin with every breath, with every urgent little twitch of Isabela’s hips. She met his eyes, lips parted, and traced her fingertips along one glowing line across his chest.

“I can feel it,” she gasped. Her body twisted as she lifted her hips, then slid them back down. He caught a brief glimpse of his cock, glistening with her wetness before he was engulfed in tight heat again. “The – the Fade, or magic, or something. Whatever makes your skin hum it’s – oh, _Justice_.” She bit her lip, stifling a scream as Justice’s hips jerked beneath her.

Their bodies took over, instinct overriding their need to make this last. Justice dug his fingers into Isabela’s hips and thrust up into her, groaning shakily as heat and tension built within him. He knew these sensations – had felt them through Anders – but it was so much more intense on the surface. Raw pleasure left him shaking, his voice cracking as he writhed under Isabela. Her body bounced each time he thrust into her, he could feel her ass move under his hands and he gripped it tightly as she rode him hard. Her breasts hung down and brushed against his chest, and Justice slid one hand to her shoulder to pull their bodies closer so he could feel them pressed against him. The drag of her nipples against his skin made her whimper and speed up the urgent rocks of her hips, driving herself down onto his length again and again.

Justice hunched forward, raising his hips so that Isabela was pushed up his body. Her breasts hung over his face, and Justice released her shoulder to cup one, rolling and pinching the nipple. Isabela moaned, and he brought his mouth to the stiff peak. A flick of his tongue, a soft brush of his lips, and she was gasping and pressing down against his mouth, her breasts heaving against his face as she rode him. When he wrapped his lips around it and sucked, her breathless moan became a shuddering cry, and she clenched one hand in his hair as he sucked and licked and lightly grazed with his teeth. He was finding the balance between memory and creativity, drawing on Anders’ experiences but not imitating – he was finding his own way. So much of mortal behaviour had been difficult for him – sometimes impossible. But this, he could do. He tightened his grip on Isabela’s ass and dragged her down to the base of his cock and held her there, grinding up against her until he heard the catch in her breath.

“Where did you learn _that,_ ” she gasped. He felt her swollen lips pressed up against his skin, and her hips jerked urgently as she ground against him. “Oh that’s – that’s _good,_ just like that.”

Her hips worked slowly now – the rapid ascent to his own climax had slowed, but Justice didn’t care. He could hear the shake in Isabela’s breath, and breathe in the rich scent of her skin as her breasts brushed his face. He ran his hands over her body, feeling the small pad of softness at her waist, the toned curves of her hips and thighs, then up over the taut muscle of her shoulders. She was perfect – he could spend hours exploring her body, and it wouldn’t be enough. He loved that he was doing this to her, hearing the tell-tale tone in her high, sharp moans as she  leaned forward, pressing her clit firmly against his skin, and her slick juices streaked his cock.

“You are perfect” he groaned against her skin. “ _Mortal._ ”

“Fuck,” she cried out, throwing her head back with another loud moan. “Fuck, oh _fuck_.”

She came hard, her cunt tightening around him and leaving wetness smeared on his skin. Her thighs were clenched tightly around his hips, her toes curled in the rough blanket beneath them. She shifted back until they were eye to eye, and Justice released her breast to slide his fingers into her hair and kiss her fiercely as she whimpered and writhed against him. Her hair fell around his face, it smelled of fire and blood and forced him to remember why they were running – what he’d done – but with Isabela surrounding him he found it didn’t hurt quite so much. Not him, and not his host. She was freedom and she was forgiveness, and after everything she’d seen she still wanted him.

“You – doing all right there?” She was breathless, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks hot.

“You are more than I deserve.” He gasped as Isabela effortlessly reversed their positions – he was taller than her, and far stronger, but with a twist of her hips she had him pulled on top of her. He pushed himself up on his hands, looking over her sweat-slick body with an approving growl.

“No one gets what they deserve.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in close. He was on top, but she was unmistakably in control – and the thought made his cock twitch and throb inside her. “That’s the whole point.”

“The point?” He began to thrust – slowly, his thighs trembling with the effort of holding back.

“Of what I’ve been saying to you – to Anders, anyway – for years.” She slid one hand up to grip his bicep, purring happily as it jumped under her palm with every thrust. “There’s no justice. If you’re – mm, _yes_ – going to live in our world, you’ll have to make peace with that.”

“Peace?” Justice snapped his hips sharply, and Isabela arched her back with a cry. The movement made her breasts quiver, and he let one hand slide onto her chest to caress the soft curves again. “There is less peace–“ he broke off with a groan as a shock of raw pleasure tore through him – he was close, he recognised the coiled tension and the tight, flushed feeling in his skin. “- less _peace_ in this world than there is justice.”

“True.” She dug her heels into his back, encouraging him to thrust faster until he was pounding into her, skin slapping on skin as his hips impacted against her ass, and his cock dragged deliciously wet sounds from her with every thrust.

“What would you have me do?” He hadn’t meant his voice to come out as a rough plea, but he couldn’t take it back now. He tightened his grip on her breast until she whimpered, slammed into her until the bed was creaking below them. Isabela’s heels pulled at him with every thrust – she wanted this, and more besides. “What – am I – supposed to _do?_ ”

“Fuck me,” she purred, a smile playing over her lips. “Worry about the rest one day at a time.”

He did – focusing on the way her curves bounced as he pounded into her, on the slick glide around his cock, the freckles on her shoulders and the way she moaned. Between her thighs, he could almost believe she was right – that he could be flawed and fragile and lost, just like any mortal. She gasped _Justice_ as if it was just a name, not the ideal that defined his being. As if he could be all at once something more, and something less.

Mortals lied. This mortal especially. But he – and the part of him that was Anders – desperately wanted to believe she could be right.

She seemed to sense what he needed – somehow, in that way that mortals did with each other, reading lines of tension in each other’s faces and responding in ways he could not understand. She pulled him close against her, and he tucked his face against her neck and breathed deeply, then dug his fingers into her hips with a deep, trembling moan. A rush of sensation overtook him, pleasure racing across his skin and coiling down his spine. He shook, and grunted harshly against her shoulder, and his hips jerked unsteadily as pleasure dragged him to the precipice and let him fall. He was distantly aware of Isabela’s voice murmuring something softly to him, and of his shoulders shaking violently under her hands, and as the white-hot rush of his climax faded he realised he was panting her name against her skin.

Eventually he felt able to roll off her, flopping onto his back with a gasp as his bright glow played over the worn planks overhead. Isabela curled against his side, one arm flung casually across his chest. Her fingers toyed with his loose blond hair, twisting it gently in time with their slowing breaths.

“Do you want me to leave?” he said eventually. The difference between comfortable and awkward silences eluded him, and he did not know which this was.

“I know what people say about me.” Isabela sighed and burrowed closer. “I meant what I said, I don’t like to be tied down. That doesn’t mean I’m going to show you the door and throw your boots after you.”

“Then – what do you want?”

“Freedom.” She shrugged, and Anders nudged at his mind until Justice realised he was expected to hold her. He curled his arm around her shoulders, and Isabela gave a contented sigh and rested her cheek against his chest.

“That – doesn’t really answer my question.”

“It should.” She shifted slightly, tangling one of her legs with his. “I don’t want to make you any promises I can’t keep. This was fun. Maybe we’ll do it again, or maybe we won’t. I don’t need to know right now. Do you?”

“I – suppose that I do not.”

“Then stick around.” She said it so casually, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“I – we – will be hunted,” he warned. “And there is my cause – I am not ready to abandon it. I am not _able_.”

“I’m used to causes.” Isabela laughed, and although he still wasn’t sure he understood laughter, he decided that he liked hers. “I’m used to trouble too. I’ve been trailing around after Hawke long enough. It sounds like you’ve got places you need to go – and this ship is going to be your fastest way of getting there.”

“You are offering your help?”

“For as long as it works for us both.” She shrugged again, and tossed her hair. “What do you say? See how it goes?”

Justice felt for Anders’ mind, and felt the rise of hope flood through their minds. They had lost so much in Kirkwall – perhaps they did not need to lose it all. Justice wasn’t sure he could become what Isabela hoped he would – he wasn’t sure that this arrangement could ever work. But she wasn’t asking for certainty or permanence – she wasn’t asking for anything. She was declaring her own freedom, and offering him the same. It was, after all, what Anders had been looking for. Justice wondered if he was truly separate enough to say he didn’t share that need.

“We will stay,” he said, and Isabela’s hand slipped into his. 


End file.
